


hey lover come and be my alibi

by firstaudrina



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 20:12:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1177430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firstaudrina/pseuds/firstaudrina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything about her is a veiled threat, even if she doesn't know what exactly she's threatening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hey lover come and be my alibi

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: arch, leather, rip, rough, threat, throat, wrecked

Johanna is wearing a high waisted leather skirt and matching bandeau top, deep brown fabric catching a shine off the city light. The lines of leather cut her straight across the torso, separating the bony shoulders framing hollow collarbones from the strip of stomach taut with muscle. Finally being well fed hadn't filled Johanna out like it did Katniss; she is still thin and jagged where Katniss has discovered hips, full breasts, a softness to her stomach. 

Johanna kisses like she kills, a flurry of anger and determination that Katniss fights as much as she courts. Johanna digs her fingers so hard into Katniss' braids that her nails scrap the skin and the hair becomes loose, tangled. Her teeth sink into Katniss' lip. Kissing Johanna is tasting blood. 

When they'd seen each other earlier that night Johanna had been seated on a barstool, leaning back on her elbows with her hips jutting out arrogantly, her spiked heel hooked into the stool. She didn't seem to sit so much as to hover bow-like, fight-or-flight so evident in the lines of her body that Katniss didn't know how no one else noticed. 

Now all that tension is being channeled into Katniss as she is shoved against the wall outside Johanna's apartment door. Katniss feels a snarl curl her lip as she pushes back automatically, fingers slipping against skin and leather. Johanna is easily half her weight but her raw fury is more than enough to mask the difference. Once or twice Katniss has wondered what it would be like to fight Johanna and every time it has left her wondering what it's like to lose. 

Katniss hauls Johanna closer, hands tight enough on Johanna's upper arms to bruise, and kisses her hard on the mouth. The taste of metal is traded between them, the low burn of amber colored alcohol. Johanna viciously grins and tries to get Katniss' jacket and top off at once, even though they're still outside, and only succeeds in tearing Katniss' thin t-shirt along the seam. Once started, Johanna yanks hard, ripping it practically right down the front, and gropes Katniss' bare breast triumphantly with a long-nailed hand. Katniss gasps, that slow burn sensation seeming to slide down into her stomach and lower, pooling hot right between her legs. 

Johanna has the apartment key hanging from a chain around her neck because she said that's the only way she won't lose it. Katniss grabs for it and pulls until the chain snaps, turning in Johanna's arms to get the door open. Johanna only presses closer, hand sliding down the front of Katniss' jeans and fingers pressing hard but not stroking, not moving – just pressure, torturous pressure. She pushes ruined t-shirt and leather jacket off Katniss' shoulder, sinks her teeth into the flesh there. Katniss almost drops the key, can barely get the lock unlocked and knob turned as Johanna's mouth becomes suddenly soft, dragging a slow kiss along the bitten skin and then up over Katniss' throat. Johanna nips her earlobe. The door finally opens and they fall through it.

Apartment is a generous word for where Johanna's living; it's more a mess of clothes in a bare room with something resembling a kitchen attached. She could afford much better. They could have whatever they want, but the trouble is after so many years of wanting so little none of them know how to want anything.

Still, Katniss finds herself drumming up enough sarcasm to say, "Nice place," at least in part to save face.

Johanna just rubs her fingers in slow, hard circles – rough through Katniss' panties, nails sharp against Katniss' nipple. Everything about her is a veiled threat, even if she doesn't know what exactly she's threatening. Katniss is only aware because she is the very same, because she's too used to supplementing desire with aggression for the sake of survival.

There is a low bed under Johanna's piles of clothes and that's where they end up. Johanna tugs forcefully on Katniss' jeans, which used to be too big but now snag at her hips. It's enough to make Katniss' cheeks flare a little bit, because this is probably the most naked she's been with anyone, let alone someone with as critical an eye as Johanna Mason. But Johanna doesn't look critical right now, just hungry.

She pushes Katniss' legs up and apart, mouth on Katniss through her panties, the fabric growing slicker and slicker, Katniss' breathing getting shorter and shorter. The flush seems to heat her entire body, though no longer out of embarrassment; it's hard to be embarrassed when it feels this good, when Johanna is looking at her like that. She tugs Katniss' panties out of the way enough to drag long licks along her pussy, to suck on her clit. Her hand slides up to Katniss' breast again; the combination of a sharp pinch to her nipple and the firm pressure on her clit makes Katniss' body seize up, arching into Johanna's mouth and then slumping exhausted back onto the pile of leather jackets and silk tops and wool sweaters.

And then Johanna is making her way up to kiss Katniss again, a hard kiss that is nonetheless disguising a kind of sweetness that almost seems to make Johanna angrier. Katniss kind of likes that. The idea that she could surprise Johanna in any way is an exciting one, since all Johanna tries to do is catch her off guard. That's what makes Katniss rise up to take control, pushing Johanna onto her back and putting a hand unceremoniously up Johanna's skirt, finding Johanna wet and waiting. This, Katniss knows how to do; she's had enough practice. She sinks two fingers into Johanna and presses her thumb against Johanna's clit, rubbing rapid unceasing circles. The angle is better doing it to someone else.

"Oh fuck you," Johanna laughs as she comes, going impossibly tight around Katniss' fingers. Her hands are wrapped up in Katniss' wrecked hair again, gripping the mussed braids hard enough to hurt. 

Afterwards they lie together in a heap, skin shining with sweat, breathing hard. Katniss extracts her hand carefully. Johanna's fingers unclench but do not release and after a not-very-long moment passes, she tugs until Katniss begins to slide down her body and parts her legs with a pointed, "Show me what else you got."


End file.
